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It had been a decent day's work: our heroes, the terrific trio, had successfully slipped in and out of Galactic Headquarters, picking up some key information about the villains' next plans. Officers were heading towards the scene of the crime at that moment, and it seemed as though everything was once again just fine and dandy.

Except for the little problem that their unorthodox method of disguise had left Dawn in an … interesting state.

In the boring hospital room, Dawn covered her face with the scratchy hospital pillow. "Why did it have to be a catgirl?" she moaned, her voice muffled and uncharacteristically depressed.

Brock honestly didn't have a good answer for that. "I don't have a good answer that," he replied redundantly.

"Urgh." Dawn tightened her grip on the pillow, inadvertently digging her budding claws into the pillowcase. "Stupid Dittomorphine … just had turn me into something that sounds like it'd be cool but really, really isn't. Screw this."

"Well …" Brock glanced at her a bit nervously, wondering exactly how ticked off she was. "You made a really good distraction. Because, you know, Ash and I probably couldn't have gotten hold of their plans without you turning those grunts into drooling loony goons."

"Mhm. Well, good to know that my pain and suffering makes you happy."

He cringed. "Sorry."

A few long moments of silence stretched between them awkwardly. Brock tried not to watch Dawn's tail twitch too much.

After a while, Dawn removed the pillow with deliberate slowness, sighing dejectedly. "It just sucks, that's all," she told him, meeting his gaze with eerily huge and circular eyes. "I look seriously awful. I scared poor Piplup half to death, he didn't understand why my face was shifting and all. And now I think even my color vision's going!"

"Hey," Brock said, placing a hand over hers cautiously. "Just take a deep breath, okay? Nurse Joy'll probably be able to fix this."

"I hope so." She shifted slightly, wincing as the pillow rubbed against the spot where one of her ears had been. "Do I want to know how Ash took it?"

He grimaced. "No."

"Tell me anyway," she insisted, suddenly grinning with a mouth full of sharp cat teeth. "His terrified reaction might have been funny."

"Well, um, actually he just stared and blinked for about a full minute. And then when you passed out, he tried to catch you with an Ultra Ball."

"… What."

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his head, feeling embarrassed for his idiot friend's antics. "Then he got over it. Right now he's outside training his Pokemon, probably because he's really embarrassed that Pikachu got defeated by a Magikarp on the way here."

"Sounds like Ash," Dawn agreed, scoffing. "If only I could still roll my eyes …"

"You can still sweatdrop," Brock reminded her.

"Oh, right," she realized, quickly sweatdropping.

"Exactly. Well, Ash can be a bit scatterbrained sometimes, you know. It wouldn't have hurt if he came up here to check up on how you were doing, though."

"But you did. Thank you for being here for me, Brock," she said, smiling again. "It really helps, actually."

"No problem." He returned her grin, although he was rather unnerved by it. "As long as there's a lesson about friendship or something in here, everything will be fine anyway."

Dawn tilted her head to the side. "I thought that the lesson had something to do with misusing drugs," she said, looking confused.

"I guess there's that too," he conceded. "Especially since we want to get the whole business behind us. Speaking of which, would you want to head over to one of those dockside places for something to eat, once this is all taken care of? Without Ash, if you want."

She nodded. "Absolutely. I seem to have a craving for a rare-cooked cheeseburger."

"Sounds like a plan."

Neither of them seemed to notice that they had somehow gone to holding hands. But of course, that's just something that happens in life. Even if the Dittomorphine wasn't.

Now, the Wes and Emok pairing was rather abrupt. But, it was cute. Wes didn't show too many signs of romance towards Emok. However, it WAS funny when she called Rui a Wallflower... what's a Wallflower?

Then there was Pokeshipping. One of my favorite pairings. It was sweet, Ash telling Misty that he couldn't have done everything without her. So cute! But the best part was in the end, when she asked why they were having this conversation when she was dangling off a train car. HA! That made my day.

CircleofLifeShipping. Now THAT was a cute story! The worried single mother, Esme, looking for her daughter. The kind but lonely Lavi who helped cute little
Elle. The whole story was just adorable! Especially in the end, when Elle asked Lavi if he was going to be her dad. I liked that one.

Then the whole Brock and Dawn pairing. At first, I didn't quite understand everything. Then I realized Dawn was some sort of cat person. Not a whole lot of romance, but funny.

No need to worry about replying ^_^ Glad you found these amusing. And cute.

A wallflower refers to a person who is socially awkward - somebody who, say, fades into the background. Rather ironic, since IIRC that was part of Emok's in-game dialogue, and well ...

Ah, my old problem of lack of romance. *tells self to work a bit harder at that* I seem to be much better at humor than sexiness. Which is okay with me, to be honest, because if I wasn't this one-shot here would probably be really, really creepy.

*

ClapShipping // Gary's left hand & Gary's right hand // G

"If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!"

Clap! Clap!

Gary glanced down at his hands. He was fairly sure that he hadn't meant to actually clap along to the song. Then again, he supposed, maybe it had turned him nostalgic and somehow lured him in with the beat. A weird explanation, of course, but it was the only one that made even an ounce of sense.

The daycare kids he was helping to watch didn't notice his confusion, naturally; they were too busy singing along to the song, mimicking another helper's movements as she guided them, singing cheerfully.

"If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!"

Clap! Clap!

They'd done it again. Gary raised an eyebrow; he definitely hadn't meant to clap that time.

"If you're happy and you know it, if you really want to show it—"

Freak occurrence, that's all, he assured himself, making a mental note to check with Gramps and see if this wasn't some sort of spasm that only old people were supposed to get.

"If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!"

Clap! Clap!

And again! He stared at his hands, now lying innocently on his knees. Something was up here, he could tell: something that seemed to be turning his hands into those freakish little windup monkey paws, minus the annoying cymbals. Not that the clapping seemed bad in and of itself. It actually felt strangely nice, which of course disturbed him.

"If you're happy and you know it, stomp your feet!"

Clap! Clap!

Several of the children curiously glanced over at him, and a couple of them even had to stifle their giggles at what seemed to be a silly mistake on the young man's part. The other helper, who had just stomped her feet along with the kids, raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him, causing him to blush and look away in embarrassment. Why can't they stop clapping? he thought pathetically.

"If you're happy and you know it, stomp your feet!"

Clap! Clap!

This time more kids giggled, and fewer of them tried to hide it. Gary, who had decided to try and ignore them by focusing on the hands themselves, watched as they came together twice more. Somehow, watching them move on their own accord, meeting palm to palm in front of him, wasn't quite as anxiety-inducing as he'd thought it would be. It was less creepy than he had initially thought, actually, and more … more like they were meant to touch in the first place.

Which was a stupid idea, of course. That would be like saying they were romancing each other. And they were hands. Hands couldn't fall in love.

But still …

"If you're happy and you know it, and you really want to show it …"

But still, he thought, bringing them together to grasp each other, it felt right. And what else mattered, really?

"If you're happy and you know it, stomp your feet!"

Stomp! Stomp!

The kids glanced back at him, feeling a bit disappointed that the young man hadn't messed up by clapping instead of stomping. But they got over it soon enough, following the other helper as she led them in waving their arms. And Gary was left to watch them, while his hands simply held each other, confessing their profound mutual love through the touch of warm skin.

You're too kind. ^^; Actually, it'd be interesting to see if someone else could write a ClapShipping story. Trying to give the hands actual characterization, working together perfectly, causing Gary to wind up in increasingly farfetched adventures, and so on ... Now that I think about it, that would be rather epic. In a bizarre way.

*

FireredShipping // Ash & Zoey // G

"This fedora is all right, isn't it?" Zoey asked, gripping the wide brim of her hat in her fingers to adjust it slightly.

Ash nodded distractedly. "Sure, sure."

"No, I mean it. Really, Ash, I need to make this look right. I want y— … I mean, Ursula's going to be in this one, and I am not about to let her flaunt that ribbon around."

"I know, I know," Ash said airily. "I just really kinda need to help train Gible, because he's still got problems with his Draco Meteor business. I mean, not that I have a real problem with his meteors always falling down and bashing into Piplup. But Dawn's been getting worried that it might be 'reversing the positive effects of his consistent ego-boosting and spotlight stealing', whatever that means, so I need to spend as much time helping him redirect it as possible."

"Sure, of course. But Ash, I'm serious, does the fedora look okay? Or do I need a hat at all?"

"I dunno." Ash stifled a yawn with a gloved hand. "Does it matter?"

"Obviously it matters. Now come on, help me out here. Does the fedora work or not?"

"Zoey, I honestly don't know. But are you sure it really matters? You never really put much of a point on caring how you looked before. And Ursula's been in Contests with you, too, so there's no point in acting like this is all a big deal or whatever. So why start caring about how you look now?"

She froze, still staring at herself in the mirror. "… I care about how I look," she heard herself say, trying to keep her voice even and not disappointed in the slightest.

"Not really. You're the most tomboyish person I know, especially compared to Dawn. Well, one of the most tomboyish people I know. The other's in Kanto somewhere, probably getting therapy for all that physical and psychological straining to pull mallets out of misplaced pockets of distorted reality. But that's beside the point. The point is, you've never made a big deal about appearance. Your appearance, I mean. Obviously you care about your Pokemon's appearance, since otherwise you'd never win Contests, ever. But you've always stuck by that maroon suit all this time. Why change to a dress now? It's sort of a girly thing, not like you."

"Okay. First off, it's a trench coat, not a dress. As in, the thing that those spies wear all the time in movies. The fact that it is blue and knee-length does not make it a dress. Secondly, I don't have to wear that suit all the time. It's not like we're anime characters with ridiculously limited wardrobes, honestly. And third, it's a change in pace. Different and eye-catching, you know? The sort of outfit I'd want to use to get attention from y— … the judges."

Ash rubbed his chin, putting in some pained effort to look thoughtful. "That … actually does make a lot of sense."

"And I do care about how I look," she repeated, tilting the fedora to one side of her head, then to the other, examining it with a critical eye. "Not everyone who takes the time to look over their appearance has to wear a dress. Take people with tuxedos, for example. They might not be all dazzling rainbows, but they won't exactly thank you for spilling coffee all over them. And I'll have you know that that maroon suit is so shiny, it once blinded a man."

"Holy cow! What happened to him?"

"He ran back to Pewter City. But anyway, now do you believe me?"

"I … I guess so." He watched her continue to shift the fedora around, tugging subconsciously at the brim of his cap. "It's just ... you looked fine before, it's just this new outfit is so much … cooler, I guess."

"Oh! Is that what you meant before?"

"What did I mean before?"

"Not caring about how I look."

"Oh yeah, that. It's like a natural look, the one from before. Like it fits you. Not that this new one doesn't fit you now. It's just that the other one looked like it had, you know, grown off of you. And sort of grown on me, actually. That's all I meant."

She had to grin at that. "Well, thanks."

"No problem. It's true, after all."

"You're too kind, Ash Ketchum." Turning away from the mirror, she put her hands on her hips. "You sure this looks okay enough for the Contest?"

This was pretty cute! I love how much Zoey cared about how she looked to Ash, and how she kept asking and asking if the fedora went with it. Zoey should know that Ash has NO fashion sense. Heh heh, if she's going to him for advice, she either must really like him, or have a pretty bad fashion sense herself. Good job!

I think it'd be the former, as her own fashion sense isn't that bad. I think. I can't remember if her usual maroon Contest getup clashes with her hair or not ... But yeah, she'd care about his personal opinion in a shipping situation. It's not like anyone would actually believe that Ash "Needs To Be Reminded To Change His Underwear Daily" Ketchum is a fashion expert.

*

GinsuishouShipping // Eusine & Lyra // PG

"—had to tell her that over and over again! Because every time I did, she just said 'Okay, Eusine, I know,' and then immediately forgot about it. So she waits a whole five hours before thinking to call me that I've wasted half my life and it's only now started roaming the world. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with her?"

Morty watched his cowlick-sporting friend furiously kick the gym's wall, only to yelp and hop around on one foot, holding the other in both hands. Eusine could be so weird at times, he decided.

"Maybe it really did just slip her mind," the blonde suggested.

"Yeah, right," Eusine scoffed, still cringing and bouncing around aimlessly. "She just wanted to go after it herself. You know what she told me when we first ran into each other? 'Suicune's my favorite legendary beast too, and you've inspired me to try and catch it!' Because obviously I'm going to let my life's work end up worth nothing, and just let her get it for no reason at all! Who does she think she is?"

"Well," Morty replied smoothly, leaning against a wall, "I think it'd be safe to assume that she thinks she's Lyra."

"Thank you!" Eusine snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm as he hopped about. "Thank you so much for that little gem of wisdom, Professor Obvious!"

Morty lazily raised his hands in front of him. "Hey, it's not like you were looking for an actual answer."

"Damn straight I wasn't looking for an actual answer. I was looking for Suicune."

"Terrible jokes aside, you might – Eusine, watch out!"

"Huh?"

CRASH!

"Wahhhhhhhhhhh …!"

"Bugger!" Morty exclaimed, racing across the gym to the broken window. "That's the seventh one he's busted so far …"

He peered out over the shards of broken glass, and stared in disbelief.

Several yards below, Eusine was indeed falling, albeit very slowly. His savior, a small white fairy-like bird, had grasped his arms with her little hands, and was now flapping her stubby wings furiously in an attempt to lift him back to the broken window. "Tiiii~!" she gasped, calling out to someone.

From the ground, a familiar voice responded. "Pippi, what—? Wait, is that Eusine?"

"Damn it," Eusine grunted. "Is that Lyra?"

"Yes, this is Lyra," the other voice responded a bit dryly. "You're welcome, by the way. Pippi, I think it might be easier if you brought him down."

"T'oh!" the Togetic grunted, slapping her forehead in realization and letting go of Eusine in the process.

"Wahhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Pippi! Try and catch … oh crap."

THUD!

Pippi and Morty cringed at the nasty landing, feeling sorry for both of the brunettes.

"… Owww."

"EUSINE!"

"Ahhhh …"

"Get off of me NOW."

"Ugh …"

"What in the name of Suicune's butt are you whining about? You got a soft landing!"

"I just … ow …"

"He's fine, Lyra," Morty called down, grinning as he realized they wouldn't be permanently injured. "He's just a bit dazed at being saved by you, that's all."

"Or bird, I guess," he continued, gesturing vaguely upward towards Pippi. "Hard to tell what most Pokemon are supposed to be."

"… Oh. Oh, her, right. I thought you were talking about … never mind."

"What? OOF!"

He rolled a few feet away from the force of Lyra's push, allowing her to get to her feet a bit shakily, wincing. Pippi, slowly starting to feel concern, fluttered downward on rapidly beating wings to see how her trainer was faring, mostly ignoring Eusine.

"Oh, please," she said, rolling her eyes. "Whenever you start going into monologues about how great Suicune is and how you plan on capturing it no matter what the odds and how life isn't fair about that anyway, stuff like this—" She gestured upwards towards the broken window, from which Morty was still looking on with interest. "—stuff like this happens like crazy. Lucky I was in the neighborhood, or else we'd have your face plastered all over the obituaries. And that sure wouldn't be fun."

"Oh. Right."

"But anyway. Falling and bruises aside, I actually came here because I heard that you were hanging around somewhere in Ecruteak. I wanted to tell you—"

"Couldn't you have just called me?" he interrupted. "I mean, that would've been simpler than walking all the way here."

"No, actually, I couldn't have. You deleted your number from my Pokegear, remember?"

"Did I?"

"Yes. You know, the time when I told you about Suicune being asleep, and you started going crazy and ran off crying?"

"N-no. That whole hour is a blur to me, really … I know I didn't cry, though."

"Yes. Yes, you did. Sobbing the whole way. It was actually pretty hilarious."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did! ANYWAY, what I wanted to tell you was that I spotted Suicune the other week, prowling around the Lake of Rage. It's probably somewhere else by now, but …"

He stared at her, an look of shock spreading across his face. "You mean—?"

"Yes," she confirmed, "it's still in Johto. Just thought you should know before I, you know, get to it first." She smirked.

He said nothing, merely staring at her in disbelief. Pippi glanced from one to the other, back and forth, waiting for something to happen.

Then her words finally registered to him, and his expression abruptly changed to one of delight. "Excellent!" he exclaimed, beaming. "Now I can truly hunt the beast of the north wind again! Thanks to you, Lyra, I can at last follow my dream and claim Suicune as my own! Because, of course, it's obvious that I will reach it before you!"

"Um," Lyra said, taken a little aback at his sudden shift in mood.

"You won't regret it!" he laughed, swooping down, lifting her into the air in an unexpected hug, and spinning around rapidly. "I'll give you credit for it, believe me! I can see the headlines now: 'Eusine bags beast at last; champion hopeful proves key'! Oh, this will be so, so great!"

Up above, from the broken gym window, Morty watched the ecstatic Eusine twirl and the surprised Lyra fly around and around, nearly smacking into a very confused Pippi. "What were you saying about Lyra again, Eusine?" he asked nobody in particular, allowing himself a smirk.

I absolutely LOVE Eusine's craziness. That was more funny than romantic, but that's okay! I read slot of these stories for the humor anyway! Oh, I loved Eusine's ranting, and that little argument with Morty about Lyra. Then Eusine falling through a window... again. And then Lyra telling him she couldn't call him and him running away crying! I cracked up at that part! All in all, this was a good story. Keep up the good work!

But anyway. This should have a more romantic feel, if only because it's kinda sorta gothic and all. No humor here :<

*

EmpiplupShipping // Darach & Dawn // PG

"You should not have come."

She spins towards the voice, startled, eyes finding nothing but shadow cloaking those places furthest from the windows. It is as if she only imagined that imperative statement, but for the pounding of the echoes against far-off walls and the frantic drumbeat of her own heart.

The throne room is massive, spacious, elegant, grand – a setting for a fairy tale, perhaps, with vibrant stained glass windows set along in even intervals, colors barely glowing in the remaining light streaming from outside. There is a long, violet carpet beneath her boots, stretching along a dusty, checkered floor, ending at the foot of a glorious throne of red and gold, fit for royalty.

The throne is empty. The room falls into darkness. Nothing stirs.

She clears her throat, feeling the air begin to coat her throat with a fine layer of dust. "Where is the Lady?"

She hears the sound of her own voice, again and again: louder echoes amplifying hesitance, softer ones stifling purpose. The dying echoes are broken whispers, hissing in mockery.

There is silence. It is as if, just out of the corner of her eye, a funeral proceeds: a melancholy air hovering around invisible bearers of an invisible coffin.

"The Lady?" the other voice repeats, surprising her again with its suddenness. "The Lady has found another place, one which suits her. The Lady will not return to Sinnoh. You have come in vain."

Again, she cannot tell where he is: the room grows gradually darker, shadows creeping blindly outwards from their dank corners as dusk begins its reign. She swallows reflexively, eyes still darting about, searching. "But," she says, "the Battle Castle must still be serving challengers, right? Even if the Lady's gone, you're still here. You do battle for her, anyway."

This time, her echoes still linger in the air when he replies. "How wrong you are, how wrong you are… The Lady completed the air of the Castle. Would a challenger navigate his way through its grand halls, knowing that only a humble butler would await him at the end as his reward? No; she was the capstone, and when she left …" He allows himself a chuckle, a dry, mirthless sound. "The entire Castle comes crashing down."

Gooseflesh ripples softly down her arms; she hugs herself against the draftiness of the oncoming night's chill. "How long has it been?" she asks quietly.

He understands her meaning. "Too long."

She wonders what she can say, but nothing comes to mind.

"But why are you here?" he asks. His voice is quiet and uncertain, for brusqueness would not have suited him. "Why have you traveled so far from your home, simply to undergo a challenge you have already completed? The experience would not have been exciting, for history would merely be repeating itself, and you would be well aware of what to expect. And now … now there is nothing here for you to see. Nothing but grime and shadow and the tarnish on her throne."

His musings are so bleak that she suspects he almost believes them.

"But … but there's more here than just those things," she forces herself to say. "You're still here, as the final challenge. And as long as you're here, the spirit of the thing is still in this place, even if the mood isn't … The Castle doesn't need to be glamorous to work. I've been in the gyms, and most of them weren't nearly as flashy as any of these Frontier challenges. But they're still alive, just like the Castle is."

He says nothing, even long after her voice stops reverberating off of the walls.

"And," she adds, slightly more confident now, "when I came here this second time, I knew I'd have to battle you. I was even looking forward to it. The first time was exciting enough … there aren't many battlers as skilled as you. I wanted to see that side of you – the real you – again."

She lets those words echo for a while, wondering if she has said too much. It doesn't seem to matter, for he says nothing at all.

"If you ever change your mind," she says, turning back to the grand doors, "I could always come back and battle you. Maybe even help you turn this place around, if it'd convince you that the Castle's spirit is still alive."

Her boots sink into the carpet with every step, back towards the maze of grand halls she traveled through to get to this point. She wonders if he has listened to her words at all, and if he is even there, still watching her from the shadows. She hopes that he will at least consider it. She doesn't want him to suffer anymore, alone in the dank Castle.

As she reaches the threshold, his voice whispers to her. "I would like that."

She glances back, hand still on the door, smiling at a man she cannot see. Perhaps he will understand, she decides, tension dissolving from her muscles as she realizes he has felt the touch of hope again.

And then she is gone, leaving him alone to further consider her words.

Sewers! I love it! Dawn came all the way to the Battle Frontier just to see Darach and battle him. And the luxurious, grand castle, with no Queen. It's kinda sad, being left all alone in a place that was once fit for royalty. Well, it is a castle, course it's fit for royalty!

It is indeed. And Dawn would be its next princess, so it all works out :D

Le warning: this is way more friendshippy than romantic. And way more cracky than friendshippy. Yep.

*

ContuckyFriedShipping // May & Blaziken // PG-13

Meetings at the Justice Coordination headquarters were odd at best, and today's was no exception.

"You're all undoubtedly wondering why I called you here today," Drew began, once everyone had taken their seats. "To answer your collective unspoken question: yes, I did get a new haircut. I must ask, however, that all you lovely ladies and effeminate men refrain from swooning until this meeting has concluded. There is some important information that you must hear; and in any case I would rather not have to claim responsibility for all the puddles of drool on the floor."

"Can it," May interrupted, folding her arms and glaring at him; her partner Blaziken, sitting beside her, mimicked her actions. "Get to the point already; it's too early in the morning for us to be listening to your egomaniacal drivel."

"You're just jealous," Drew quipped, flipping his hair back lazily. "Now, it's time to detail you all on the latest issue, as much as it pains me to steer the conversation away from the wonderful, gorgeous mop of bishonen lushness that makes up my newly-trimmed manly hair—"

"I think I just puked in my mouth a little," Zoey muttered, making a face. Glameow nodded in agreement, looking sick.

"Our sources have received word that Harley is up to his scheming again," Drew said, tapping a sparkly image on the broad screen at the front of the room with a random billiard cue. "Rumors suggest that his Krazy Kookie Kompany has been negotiating a deal with powerful fast-food corporations – a deal that would catapult him into a disturbing level of power."

Dawn's Piplup gasped in horror. His trainer patted his head comfortingly.

"But it gets worse," the green-haired boy went on, tapping the screen again; at the back of the room, his Roserade fiddled with a whirring projector, changing the image on the screen to a shadowy photograph. "At three hundred hours this morning, an influential CEO of Fry Palace was murdered in his bed. Well, it wasn't actually his bed. It was basically your average fat-man-pays-pretty-girl-for-a-good-time scenario, except that instead of getting a good time he got killed. And instead of a pretty girl, it was Harley."

This time Piplup wasn't the only one to gasp. "Holy crap," May muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Actually, I meant how I couldn't understand what a CEO would see in that creep," she corrected.

Everyone sweatdropped.

"… Okay then," Drew said with a shrug. "Anyway, your mission today is fairly simple: ambush Harley on his way to the corporate meeting. I don't expect any of you to actually capture him, especially not after all those failed attempts from before. He's the slipperiest thing in the country, as I know from experience, so your objective should involve only keeping him from the meeting by whatever means necessary, including mild injuries and humiliation. Or ripping a leg off, if you're feeling lucky."

Blaziken cracked his knuckles. May grinned up at him, sharing in his anticipation, and the two touched knuckles as their attention to Drew waned.

"Now, I understand there's a Contest coming up tomorrow in Johto. I also understand that many of you will complain upon hearing that I won't be joining you all for this mission, but the fact remains that the numerous paperwork issues I need to sort out will probably prevent me from squeezing in extra training time. And, of course, there's the fact that I need to keep this gorgeous mop of hair in exactly the right shape; I do have an image to keep up." He stroked said mop almost sensually, wearing a strange grin on his face.

Late morning, ten hundred hours: in a shadowy concrete alcove, May let the motorbike's engine idle, feeling it shudder under her hands and seat. Forcing herself to swallow her nervousness, she glanced backwards at Blaziken, who sat behind her on the leather seat. He was looking back at her, concern sparkling through his tinted goggles. "I-it's okay, Blaziken," she assured him, smiling slightly. "Not sure if those riding lessons are going to pay off, that's all."

"Ken." Blaziken rolled his eyes at the denial.

The urban street was very well-to-do, filled with lavish hotels and towering skyscrapers. Expensive cars glittered in the light of the overcast sky, and people in business suits swarmed on the sidewalk, thumbing through newspapers or sipping coffee that even smelled expensive. In the midst of the ritzy setting, one looming building looked extremely out of place: a rainbow-colored monstrosity covered in painted cookies with smiling faces, topped with a glaringly bright neon sign: KRAZY KOOKIE KOMPANY. This was the business façade of Harley's supposedly secret lair, a place of unspeakable evil, horror, and fabulousness.

Why none of the people in business suits questioned its presence was another matter entirely.

A soft buzzing sound drew May and Blaziken's attention; returning their focus to the ridiculous building, they noted that a pair of massive doors were slowly creaking open, allowing a green-and-purple limousine with a large cookie ornament on its hood to crawl out on sparkly tires. The limo pulled out onto the road, drawing no attention aside from a pair of bikers who had been too careless to watch where they were going.

"'Kay," May muttered, lowering her goggles over her eyes and letting the motorbike come to life with a mechanical growl. "Here we go."

"Ziiiii," Blaziken agreed, gently gripping his trainer's waist with clawed hands. May shivered slightly at the pleasant tingling sensation, but she nevertheless edged the motorbike out onto the road, only a couple of cars behind the limo.

Traffic was relatively mild at that time of day, but this was still a city, and the hustle and bustle of vehicles was still similar to a raging river, one that they were forced to swim upstream. Even with the obnoxious hood ornament, the limo was still difficult to keep track of, and several times May was forced to edge her way between cars in order to keep the enemy in sight. She tried not to think about the drivers who were undoubtedly glaring at her for this; instead she kept to what her senses told her, with the sight of the traffic lights hanging above and the feel of Blaziken's body pressing against hers, warm and delightf—

Wait, what?

She was jerked from the strange thought by a squawking emanating from the walkie-talkie on her belt. "Red Four and Five, this is Emerald One, copy."

"Red Four standing by," Zoey's voice chimed mechanically.

Keeping one gloved hand firmly on the handlebars, May brought the walkie-talkie to her mouth with the other. "Red Five standing by."

"Excellent." She pulled into a new gear, lowering herself slightly. "Let's do this."

With a sudden tug the motorbike shot forward, hurtling past the slower-moving cars as it rocketed towards the limo up ahead. Carefully weaving in and out of the cars, she noticed a blur in her peripheral vision, undoubtedly Zoey and Glameow in a similar motorbike. Behind her she felt Blaziken tense, preparing to attack once they were within range.

"Get ready, Blaziken," May called, as the fabulous supervillain readied his machine gun. She made a sharp turn behind a moving car as Harley unloaded a barrage of cookies at the spot she had just left, moving the gun in an arc in an attempt to hit them and only managing to smash the car's windshield, much to the driver's understandable irritation.

"Come out, my pretty!" Harley shouted, waving his gun around again. "Come out and play with the faaaabulicious Harley~!"

"Thunderbolt!"

"Wha—"

May and Blaziken caught sight of Zoey and Glameow, just long enough to see that Glameow was unleashing a massive electric charge towards the limo. Seeing his chance, Blaziken released his grip on May's waist for a moment, summoning rings of fire that circled around his hands for a moment before sending them flying at the limo in the form of two Fire Spins.

The two attacks sent the limo flying into the air, spinning around uncontrollably.

"Aiiiiiiii~!" Harley unleashed a sissy scream as his atrocious cookie limo shrank behind the two motorbikes.

"Excellent!" Drew exclaimed as May and Blaziken high-fived. "Blue Three and Gold Seven, prepare to initiate phase two. Red Four and Five, well done, come on back."

Across lanes of moving traffic, May, Blaziken, Zoey, and Glameow all glanced at each other. "What."

"This part of the mission is over with, so give yourselves a pat on the back for me, I don't want to ruin my gorgeous hair by doing it myself. Don't go back there, you'll be tempting fate."

As much as she hated to say it, May knew that Drew was probably right. "Fine," she said, feeling a pleasant tingle as Blaziken returned his hands to her waist. "We're coming."

And with that, the two motorbikes turned a sharp corner and headed away from the scene, nearly running over a man in a spider suit in the process.

*

Justice Coordination headquarters: May and Blaziken lounged around the rec room, watching Coordinators trickle in from the mission. The more Coordinators they saw coming in through the main entrance, the more they realized that even if the others' assaults had been as brief as theirs, Harley was still going to be taking a serious beating.

"You did a great job today, Blaziken," May said for the eighth time, stroking his head feathers rhythmically.

"Blaaaaaze …" he groaned, eyelids fluttering in ecstasy. May tried not to let the sound draw her thoughts into naughtier pastures.

"Well," she remarked, patting his beak, a couple of times before standing up, "I think we've had quite a bit of rest, and there's still a lot of time left today … what d'you say we practice for the Contest tomorrow, just to be positive we'll kick Drew's precious ass?"

"Ziken!" Blaziken stretched, grunting as his limbs popped softly before leaping to his feet, an anticipating sparkle in his eye.

Weeks ago, she would have blanched at the idea of referring to the sunrise as blood-red. So morbid, she'd undoubtedly say, staring cautiously up at the dispassionate other who could find it in themselves to make such a remark. She would continue to respond in that matter, even after her conversational partner had laughed and patted her on the head, chastising her to silence.

These days, of course, things were different. The sun couldn't possibly be seen as blood-red. Its morning rays were too clean for that, too pure, innocent, odorless. It tugged feebly at the heart, true, but in a highly different way.

She rummaged through her cabinets, fingers searching blindly in the darkness; it was growing close to winter, and the mornings were getting dimmer. The wiring in the abandoned basement hadn't been destroyed when They had come, but using electricity might attract Their attention. And that was about the last thing she wanted.

There was, of course, the problem of keeping warm in the coming season, a problem she really didn't want to think about yet. She'd heard LaRousse could highly unpleasant around November, but she didn't want to risk the heating anymore than she was willing to try the lighting.

Regardless, some risks were vital. Finding nothing, she grunted sourly to herself and turned away. It was going to be a ration hunt, then. Her best bet was to find a store that They hadn't raided yet; she still vividly remembered hearing the violent demise of the last supermarket she'd visited, mere minutes after she'd left the building.

After she'd scooped up her Poke Balls and knife, she headed out into the deserted street, Delcatty trotting at her heels. She guessed that she might have to be out all day. New safe places were getting harder to find.

She was used to the setting by now: the plasma-baked, dust-covered road, feeling strange beneath her lightly shredded shoes; the cars and trucks, crushed and overturned like discarded toys; the very buildings themselves, their twisted, hole-ridden shapes looming above her. Broken glass and other debris littered the streets. There were skeletons in the vehicles, but their eerie forms piqued no curiosity. Those drivers had been dead since the second blast.

Sometimes she wondered what it would have been like, if They had been a peaceful race. She could still remember the city as she had first seen it, a beautiful, sparkling metropolis. It might have stayed that way. Of course, nothing would have forced her to stay: she could continue on her old dream of Coordinating, traveling along friendly paths with nothing more dangerous than the occasional Team Rocket scheme to worry about. Everything would be better, she knew, if They were different. Everything.

Those three graves wouldn't be filled now, for a start.

Something crunched nearby. She reacted on instinct, darting quietly over to one of the wrecked cars ducking behind it while keeping her eyes in the direction of the mysterious noise. Delcatty glanced over behind them, keeping a wary eye out for trouble.

A figure staggered out from an alleyway across the street, dust curling up from his feet whenever he took a step. She frowned at the sight of him, squinting in an attempt to better place his features. The outfit he wore had been a blue jumpsuit once, she decided. She vaguely remembered seeing someone with his appearance. But surely he wouldn't have gotten so filthy, hair matted and disheveled. Or would he?

Then she noticed what he carried in his arms, and she could only stare: the pink-clad form of a small girl lay there, small limbs draped across at strange angles. His sister, she remembered, wondering vaguely what had become of the dead girl's twin. The thought was pushed to the back of her mind, however, as a wave of stronger, more vivid memories took its place, of a young boy adjusting his glasses, frowning thoughtfully, laughing joyfully … screaming in pure terror in the light of the plasma blasts. She hadn't seen her brother since that terrible day, she remembered, watching the dusty figure emerge onto the broken sidewalk. But at least there was the hope that he had somehow survived.

So when she stepped out from her hiding place, she felt no fear, only a strange wave of sadness and empathy. Delcatty glanced up her trainer, tail twitching in wary confusion, but she only had eyes for the sad form of the person she had only known in passing, before Their arrival.

His head snapped up at the soft crunch of her footsteps, eyes wide with a shock that somehow seemed incredibly out of place. It was a look she was familiar with, having seen it staring back at her from the reflective hoods of ruined cars, or from the shards of glass she was always careful to avoid whenever she was forced into the open. It was a shell-shocked, broken look, one she remembered seeing in the faces of veterans she had once passed on the street before that day. It was a look that someone of their age should never have had to wear, one that seemed to form a mask over once-innocent features.

It had been so, so long since she'd seen another survivor …

And then she was there, and he began to collapse in exhaustion to the dusty concrete, and her arms wrapped around him and his dead sister, taking him into an embrace that he had needed for so long, and a ragged gasp clawed its way from his throat, dissolving into uncontrollable sobbing.

"I know," she heard herself murmur, in a voice hoarse with disuse. She squeezed him more tightly, feeling her eyes sting with pent-up emotion. "I know."

And they stood there in Hell, sharing their pain and fear and relief, for a long, long time.

Hurt/comfort and romance seem pretty interchangeable in fanfiction, so I'm not too worried there. But yeah, thanks ^^; I'm glad you liked it. I hadn't seen too much alternate universe fic floating around, so I cooked that one up.

The girl folded her arms, slumping back in her seat with a huff. It wasn't as if it were the situation itself that bothered her – after all, what with being the Champion of Johto, it was a given that she would have found herself in various crazy scenarios. Being trapped in a tiny clown car hanging precariously from the branch of an enormous tree in the middle of an uncharted jungle … well, it wouldn't be worth putting on the list.

No, the problem was the epic New Year's party that Lance and Clair would be hosting at Blackthorn City that night, the one that had been hyped about since September and had promised to feature, among other things, pyrotechnics of unbelievable proportions, not to mention several live performances by singers who could actually sing. Lyra and the other twelve people in the clown car had naturally been invited, much to her delight.

And now, as midnight crawled ever closer, Will had to go and get them lost in the middle of nowhere.

"Why did we decide to carpool instead of fly again?" Karen asked, frowning at their psychotic-looking clown driver.

"Because it's winter, of course!" Will laughed, stepping on the gas to absolutely no effect. "It's not as if we could force our Pokemon to fly us out into subzero weather, is it?"

"Yes, actually."

"This was all your idea!" Eusine was exclaiming, pointing an accusing finger at Lyra. "If it hadn't been for you and your other little friends, I'd be out there looking for Suicune, but no. Now I'm stuck here in the middle of nowhere while your convoluted gambit to have your minions seize Suicune for you is being put into action, and you're just here to drive off all the suspicion I have!"

"It seems you have absolutely no idea what the term 'minion' means," the redhead replied smoothly. "Perhaps you should be heading back to school rather than the party."

"I'd make a breeding joke right now," the other said, "but something tells me that considering everything, it would be in very bad taste."

"Extremely," Silver agreed, scowling.

"No need for animosity, boys!" Will laughed, seeming to forget the fact that they were only a few years younger than he was. "It won't get this car moving, you know."

"Speaking of which," Falkner remarked a bit hastily, "has anyone managed to reach one of their Poke Balls yet?"

There was a chorus of murmured negatives. Even considering the bizarre geometry that was the cause of the clown car's surprisingly spacious interior, the back seats were still barely large enough to contain all of the passengers. According to Will, this seemed to be the case regardless of how many passengers there were. No one was exactly sure why – not even Will, who not only owned the car but claimed to have shared a mystical soul bond with it since the dawn of time.

It was much easier to see how everyone's patience could run out in the current situation.

"But you can't let them out!" Will protested, still laughing. Naturally, the driver's seat had relatively plenty of room, a fact that was at best irksome and at worst mind-bendingly obnoxious.

"It's not like we'd be sending them out into the cold for hours," Bugsy reasoned, attempting to rummage through the pockets of his shorts. "It'd be just for a minute, so they could levitate us or lower us to the ground or throw us all the way to the party in a way that we'd all be magically unharmed, or something."

"Aw, it's not that bad!" another boy in shorts piped up. "And I should know, I'm wearing shorts! Even in minus eighty degree weather, they're comfy and easy to wear!"

Everyone stared at him. "… We don't know who you are, do we," Silver said flatly.

"Nope!" the boy replied cheerfully. "But all you really need to know is that I really like shorts. They're so comfy and easy to w—"

"Got one!" Falkner suddenly exclaimed. "Think it might be Pidgeot … now if I can just … get … this … out … there!"

With great effort he managed to withdraw a Poke Ball, and everyone soon began to pass it towards the window, when suddenly …

"Can't let you do that, sky hound," Will laughed. "You see, I have automatic control of the windows with this handy dandy switch on my door that you can't reach. And it wouldn't be nice to let the poor bird get all covered with snow and various other things floating around, now, would it?"

"We will need to," Falkner said in a tone of forced calm, "if we don't want to be stuck in this inordinately large tree until the end of time."

"I suppose," Will laughed, tapping his chin thoughtfully with one hand while randomly jerking the steering wheel around in the other. "… Very well. On one condition."

The others tensed, aware that this couldn't bode well.

"Lyra has to give me a kiss," the clown said with a laugh.

Everyone blinked.

"… What."

"Ah, come along, Lyra," he laughed. "Don't you remember that day you challenged me on the way to become Champion?"

She frowned, reluctantly sifting through her memories …

"What … all of them taken out with a Golduck?" Will gasped while laughing, creating a very disconcerting sound.

"Well, platypi are awesome," Lyra said with a smile, patting her Pokemon's head. "And Gary can pack a punch when he's up to it."

"Fine .." Will sighed and laughed, withdrawing his fallen Xatu. "You can continue through the door behind me to the next challenge. Kiss for luck?"

She stiffened, surprised at the abrupt offer. "… Not really," she managed to say. "I did fine this time, I think I'll be okay."

"Not for you, silly," he laughed, "for me. You'll probably manage to snag the title from Lance and dethrone him and be all happy, and hopefully that won't mean shifting us all around and possibly getting me fired. So would you do it? Please?"

"…" Lyra attempted to come up with a decent response, while Gary the Golduck eyed him curiously. "Would a rain check work?" she finally asked weakly.

"I suppose," Will laughed. "I'll hold you to that!"

And with that Lyra turned towards the door to the next Elite Four member, where she would of course forget the deal completely.

"… Oh, right," Lyra said, pulling out of her flashback. "That."

She considered the situation for a moment. Kissing him almost totally out of the blue? That would be embarrassing, not to mention weird. And heck, she barely knew him!

On the other hand, it was probably their only way out of the tree at this point. And there was that awesome party …

She took a deep breath, then pushed hard through the other passengers, a feat that took a great deal of effort. Even though she only had to lean about a foot forward to move her head, the ridiculously packed car made it far from easy. It was only with much aching and protesting on the others' part that she finally managed to stick her head out past the driver's seat and hesitantly peck Will on the cheek.

"Ah!" he exclaimed with a laugh, and immediately flipped the switch, rolling the window open rapidly.

There was a beam of light, and a second later an enormous bird appeared outside of the car, though of course most of the passengers couldn't see this detail. Quickly analyzing the situation, Falkner's Pidgeot flapped upwards, seized the car in his talons, and flew off in the general direction of civilization, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible to escape the cold.

"See?" Will laughed, ignoring the surprised gasps that the sudden motion had caused and a muttered comment about something contrived. "Pretty lucky kiss, wasn't it?"

In the corner of her mind that wasn't stunned at what had just happened, Lyra vaguely considered the possibility that he'd planned it from the start. It would explain that random exit he had taken, after all. But weirdly, she didn't feel particularly annoyed about this – the gambit had been rather clever, actually. Well played. Maybe it would be a good idea to get to know him a little better.

Well .... that was definitely random. A clown car that fits a dozen people? This has either got to be the funniest stories ever, or the weirdest! I am thoroughly impressed with the strangeness in this. Er, well done!

It's weird because Will is weird. XD Also, am I the only one who sees "Will/Lyra" and instantly thinks of The Golden Compass?

*

LilBlueShipping // Dawn & Piplup // G

Piplup puffed out his chest, drinking in the morning sunlight as he gazed at his puny subjects. The giant turtle thing was lumbering towards a pond nearby, while the freak tree swayed around a little in the breeze and the fat hairy oaf pretended to sleep. Activity was bustling around them, mostly the smaller, unevolved Pokemon – superior specimens such as himself – as they chased each other around in play, an ugly and barbaric form of entertainment he'd never stoop so low to experience.

It was good to see reminders of why he was king, not that such a sight was strictly necessary.

After a minute or so of merely posing proudly, he raised a short flipper to tap his beak in thought. This looked as if it would become one of those less stressful days, where they wouldn't be traveling very far or training very hard. After all, Dawn had most of her ribbons, and the Idiot owned most of the necessary badges. They could afford to relax for a day or two.

What to do today, sweet self?

Immediately an answer became clear: find a mirror, of course! What better way to start another glorious day than to greet his own amazing self? It was so obvious that he could have kicked himself, had his legs been longer. And yet it was brilliant, of course. It had been formed in his own pureblooded head.

The pond would probably make a decent mirror, he decided. The giant turtle thing couldn't drink forever, and when it was his turn to enjoy the water, it would surely be the biggest mirror in history to be graced by his wondrous presence. He could probably spend hours by its calm surface, gazing into his reflection's eyes. It would truly be a—

No. The water had already been touched by the turtle's mouth – an evolved, inferior commoner's mouth. It would surely be too filthy for the likes of his amazing reflection.

A brief flash of light caught his eye. Turning slightly, he noted that the Servant Human was moving to and fro, utensils in hand. Probably cooking breakfast already. He truly approved of servants who knew their place. Though, of course, even the Servant Human could not cook fish quite properly. What a shame.

Fixing his eyes on a stack of dishes sitting on a table, he waddled imperially forward. The Servant Human could clean very efficiently, he knew. Those plates would likely shine like gold, and would surely reflect his face magnificently! In any case, they could hardly all be used at one time. He may as well honor one with his presence.

"Bird!"

He blinked, noticing for the first time the Pokemon standing in his path. He felt a weak wave of something like sickness as the demon shark dared to grin up at him with those foul teeth.

"Fun!" the demon shark growled happily.

Piplup noted a few scuff marks across the demon shark's scales. The beast was training already? It was still early enough to be undignified. And worse – here he shuddered, out of instinct as well as memory – and worse, the beast would surely begin to try the demon rock technique again! He still ached from the last of those incidents, never mind that the fat bird had stood up for him.

Confronting the demon shark wasn't worth it, he decided, turning his back on the creature and waddling away as fast as he could without breaking his poise. He may as well go back to bed.

Upon reaching a tent, he edged his way between the door flaps, cutting himself off from the uncivilized hordes outside. It was safer here, he decided, settling down beside Dawn's form. No filthy peasants, no demon rocks … life would be as it should.

Of course, he knew, staring up at the tent's low ceiling, he could hardly stay in here forever …

"Mm … Piplup?" Dawn mumbled, half asleep.

He graciously allowed her to stretch, nearly dislodging him from his position as she did so. He forced himself not to fly into a rage at this; she was, after all, a mere human.

Then he blinked in surprise as something patted against his head.

"You're a good … you're a good guy, Piplup," Dawn slurred, stroking his feathers without seeming to realize that her hand was even moving. "You're a good guy."

In spite of his overwhelming pride, he half reluctantly decided to allow her to continue patting him. She could hardly be saying it consciously, and it would truly not be fair to be angry at what was probably unintentional. Regardless, he thought as he exhaled deeply, it was truly nice to have his undeniable superiority taken seriously.

It almost made him feel as if, even on a glorious day such as this, he didn't need a mirror at all.

He allowed himself a little smile at that, snuggling a little deeper into her side.

I. Love. Piplup. The way he acted like a high and mighty king. I liked how Brock was just "The Servant Human". Poor Brock. Not alot of romance, but it is a Pokemon/Human pairing. Hard to do. And Gible the "Demon Shark". I LOVED IT!!!

Thanks! Yeah, I wasn't sure where to go with that one ... but I love the Demon Shark. He's very lulzy :D

*

BlenderShipping // Butch & Jessie // G

Butch had a terrible headache.

He knew he should be grateful, in a weird sort of way – considering the many other, worse ways the day could be going, a headache was next to nothing. His arm could be broken, for one thing. He could have lost several teeth, or his feet might be in a worse condition than their current tired, unpleasant tingling. Still, headaches made it painful to think, or even to listen to harsh noises, like the one bouncing off the gym walls and assaulting his ears now.

"There's no point in it!" the redheaded woman said for the fifth time. "We have the Meowth balloon, and that's an easy way to make a getaway! Not like these stupid smoke bombs!"

He sighed and rubbed his temples. What had he done for the Boss to punish him like this? "The balloon's flight log indicated that you usually ended up needing to search for it after a mission," he told her. "Meaning that you lost it at some point. Not to mention that Cassidy and I saw you get 'blasted off' by the Pikachu more times than I care to remember."

She flushed angrily. "Shut up."

"You aren't even using the smoke bomb correctly," he went on, ignoring her for the moment. "Look, you need to learn how to actually be competent for once. As in, actually steal something worthwhile and get away with it to boot. That's the entire reason for why he's letting you and those two guys go on the Unova mission—"

"Whatever." She threw her hands up in the air, almost making the smoke bomb she was holding go off in the process. "Your voice is the worst thing I've ever heard."

Oh, the irony.

"Look," he said, miraculously keeping his patience, "let's just show you how to do this the right way, okay?" He stepped forward, reaching out to take her arm. "First you need to—"

"No, no, no, stop," she interrupted, placing her free hand on her hip. "Stop right there, Bradley, I know what all this is about."

"What?"

"You know." She stalked around him, soon standing behind him at a rather uncomfortably small distance. "The whole thing where you pretend to teach me to hold something right. First you take my wrist, like so, so that your arm's touching my arm in more places than I care to count. Then you reach out with your other hand to touch the back of my hand, except you'll just have imagine that since I'm holding a smoke bomb. Then you lean slightly in … just a little … before tilting back so that your chest is supporting me. Am I right so far?"

"Thought so," Jessie crowed, not listening to him. "Then I bet you were going to just stand there with me in your arms, right? Stand and not seem to really do anything."

And they did. Butch – not daring to move for fear he would incur her wrath again – stayed leaned back in Jessie's arms, intensely aware of the hum of the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. Someone was shouting outside the gym, too muffled and distant for the words to be clearly heard. In any case, Jessie's breath was tickling his ear, constantly reminding him of how close she was. His nervousness increased by the second, and there were indeed many seconds …

He didn't notice how comfortable he was growing until the door squealed open and none other than the Boss himself stepped in, freezing midstride at the spectacle.

He blinked.

Butch blinked.

Jessie blinked.

There was a long, uncomfortable moment of near-silence.

After a while, the Boss turned around again, tossing his hands up in the air as if in defeat as he muttered, "It's everywhere," before disappearing out the door and out of sight.

"Um …" Butch grunted.

"… How long have we been standing like this?" Jessie asked, as if only just realizing the situation.

"… No idea."

"Hmph." She retracted her hold from him without warning, nearly making him fall over. "Should've guessed it'd end up like that. You're a ridiculous tricky one, Barry."

But she didn't sound quite so snappy when she said it – almost as if she were smiling. He stared back at her, still highly confused.

*

Meanwhile, in the far-off land of Sinnoh, a blond young boy paused in his walking to sneeze abruptly.

"Poleon," his metallic penguin said automatically.

"No, bless you," he replied cheerfully, before promptly falling into a ditch.

Well that was sweet. I always figured Jessie was the kind of girl who would see right through a guys flirting. I know holding Jessie was Bradley,s plan though. Jessie was the one who flirted with Bill instead. Over all, this was a really adorable chapter! Keep it up!

And that is why the Rockets are more interesting than the twerps. *nod*

*

Riley & Rui // PG

"Only shadow aura?" Riley repeated, frowning.

"Yeah," Rui said. It was silent for a second before she added, "That's why I came here, since I heard you were like the aura guru or something. I would've come earlier, but there was kind of a crisis going on, and Wes and I were all overthrowing them, and it was awesome, even though they were trying to kill us all the time. And you were on TV one time, after something blew up or something, and you explained something about honing your aura abilities or whatever. And it was really interesting, even though you were only on for about a minute before some guy came and ruined it by making everything explode with his shovel. So we finished the Shadow Pokemon business and then I came here as soon as I could on a boat, except then it sank and I had to swim to this island, and it turned out you were living here, and by the way I'm sorry about beating up your Lucario, and I looked all around until I came here. And, um. Yeah."

She glanced into the cave shadows to the side, her cheeks slightly tinted red at having blurted out so much.

"No," she replied, feeling slightly awkward in his interested gaze. "I, uh, never even knew about aura until Shadow Pokemon started popping up."

He nodded a bit absentmindedly. "Interesting …" He reached towards her with one pale hand, then paused, as if just noticing what he was doing. "I'm sorry. If I may …?"

Rui nodded a bit nervously, and Riley cupped her chin, slowly and gently turning her face from side to side, as if he were searching for something within her face. She kept her eyes turned towards the rocky ceiling, trying not to see his staring eyes bore into her … but as his hand moved to her jawbone, the temptation grew too much to bear, and her gaze instead roved towards his face.

His deep blue eyes weren't narrowed like she'd first thought; rather, they were soft and thoughtful, twinkling in the firelight with his necklace. She abruptly realized that his face was a strange, brooding sort of handsome, an attractiveness only enhanced by the fedora angled above it. Feeling a wave of embarrassment crash over her, she shut her eyes, hoping to block out the sight of him before her cheeks burned a deeper red.

The touch of his hand still brushed her face, though. His palms were somewhat rough with calluses, but that was hard to tell: his fingers didn't poke or squeeze into her skin, but simply skimmed it as they roved downward toward her neck, cautiously, gently, so gently. It was difficult not to shiver at his touch.

She wondered vaguely where her nervousness had gone, as something seemed to blossom behind her eyelids—

"Lucario," Riley said suddenly, not taking his eyes off the girl's face, "stop that music, please … it is a little difficult to concentrate …"

Rui's eyes snapped open and darted to the side, where Riley's aura jackal, covered in bandages, sat on a particularly large rock. Looking abashed, he pulled his paws back to his sides, and the aura piano that had been standing in front of him fizzled out of existence.

The two humans stared at him for a moment. He sweatdropped, shrugged, and crossed his legs, pretending they weren't there.

There was a long moment of silence. They watched each other, unmoving, neither sure what they were supposed to do.

"Um … I think it happened," Rui remarked, breaking the tension.

Riley blinked. "… What happened?"

"The aura," she clarified, thinking back on what had just occurred. "I saw something right in front of me, even though my eyes were closed and everything. It was like whenever I saw a Shadow Pokemon, except it wasn't black … I think it was your aura."

"You saw normal aura for the first time, just now …?" Riley trailed off, considering the situation.

She nodded, before breaking into a grin. "It sure wasn't like the Shadow auras. It was so bright and blue! … I think it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

He turned away slightly, but not before she caught the color faintly rising in his face.

"It doesn't matter how long you do that, it's probably not going to work."

Rui tried to stop herself from laughing out loud as the blond young man jumped, nearly dropping his weird machine in the process. He turned quickly towards her, then relaxed when he realized it was only a girl. "Hey, what … uh … who are you?" he asked, rubbing the back of his head.

She pointed past him. "He's getting away."

"Crap!"

The Swellow he had been confronting, upon realizing his escape wasn't going to go unnoticed, immediately launched himself into the air only to be flattened as the young man jumped on him, pinning him to the ground. Struggling violently and to no avail, the bird unleashed an angry squawk of protest.

"Ugh … stay still, dude!" The young man turned his head up towards the girl, who was approaching cautiously. "Thanks for that," he said with a weak grin. "Didn't think it'd be so hard befriending a Swellow … I never had any problems with flying Pokemon before."

"Well, this isn't awkward at all," Rui muttered to herself, apprehensively watching the highly suggestive scene of the young man jerkily pulling the cawing Swellow beneath him. Raising her voice to a normal volume, she told him, "I have no clue what you're talking about, but whatever it is, it might be because that's a Shadow Pokemon."

The young man blinked. "A what now?"

"A Pokemon that's had the door to its heart closed by Cipher. It gives off this really nasty black aura that you should be really glad you can't see." She stared down at him in a way that made him feel rather stupid. "You don't know what a Shadow Pokemon is? Everyone's heard of them by now."

He shook his head as well as he could. "No, I'm not from around here. Name's Jackie, Jackie Walker from Fiore."

"Oh," she said, "that would explain it. I'm Rui, by the way," she added. "From Orre, obviously. I'd tell you my last name, but I don't have one."

There was a moment filled with only the sound of Swellow's furious warbling.

"… Like, why wouldn't you have a last name?" Jackie asked, as his arms tightened a little around the bird's wings.

Numerous images flashed from the depths of Rui's memory: a man in an odd uniform gleefully grinning up at a creature swooping down toward him, claws bared; a Hoennese folk dancer pausing in his sexual-looking jig to plant his mouth on that of an unsuspecting, startled Hitmonchan; a orange refrigerator with a blue glow and a solemn looking face, awkwardly hopping down a hallway while pursued by four men with odd equipment and a Duosion…

"It's a long story," she decided to tell him.

"Okay then."

"What were you trying to do, anyway?" she asked, stooping down to pick up a little cone-shaped object that had been floating around the Swellow before she had startled the young man. She twirled it between her fingers, wondering what on earth it was.

"Using my Capture Styler on it," he replied, spreading his legs so he could pin the Swellow's claws down with his knees. "It's supposed to make the Pokemon more friendly and willing to help whoever uses it, although obviously some Pokemon are more easily befriended with it than others."

Rui, having barely heard his words due to her growing disbelief at his position, forced herself not to look at them too hard. "Huh?"

"It's a Pokemon Ranger thing."

"Never heard of them."

"I'm not surprised. Most of our missions outside Fiore are totally top secret."

"Cool." Rui peered at the dome-shaped bit sticking from the little cone's base. "You know, I bet I could calm that Swellow down with the Styler thing."

Jackie snickered. Noticing her glaring down at him for it, he hastily said, "Like, no offense, but I've been using the Styler for years now. If I can't use it on Swellow, how can you?"

"I can see Shadow aura," she replied, "and I saw this guy once who could do stuff with aura, and he taught me a bit of what he knows. Maybe if the Styler is supposed to reflect your positive feelings and friendly intentions towards the Pokemon, it can also transmit aura, since a lot of times those things overlap. At least, I think it might."

He blinked again. "That … is actually a really smart idea."

She beamed at this. "So can I try it?"

He shrugged, reaching underneath himself in a way that made her feel even more uncomfortable. "Sure, why not," he said, pulling out the weird-looking machine. "Just don't drop it, okay? I'll guide you through it and keep this guy here while you're at it, since it might take a pretty long time for a newbie to do it."

"Who're you calling a newbie?" she scoffed, taking the Styler from his outstretched hand. "I've been working with these Shadow thingies for ages now. Okay, so what do I do first?"

"First you've got to – dude, stop," he scolded the thrashing Swellow, who was utterly unimpressed by this. "Seriously. Okay, first, hold it so your thumb is hovering over that symbol in the middle. You only need one hand to hold it, you know."

"But I might drop it!" Rui protested, gripping it firmly in both hands.

Jackie sighed. "Fine, that works too … okay, now give a push down on the symbol."

She was startled when a thin beam of light immediately started to extend from the front of the machine, connecting with the cone-shaped thing. "Whoa!" she exclaimed, dropping it reflexively; to her surprise, it didn't fall, but rather floated in the air, just beyond her fingertips.

"Yep." He would have nodded, but then his neck would have been cut open by the bird's beak. "Okay, you'll need to use your thoughts to guide that disc around the target, in circles … you probably won't get that down for at least an hour or so, but hey, this way I can test how strong my arms really are—"

He broke off, staring incredulously as the disc flew past him, looping around in a tight even circle; the beam of light following it was tinged more blue than usual.

"Told you I could do it," Rui crowed smugly.

"That's … that's great," he said, somewhat dazed at her sudden ability. "Just do it more times, then, until this guy stops acting like a crazy bird …"

She nodded, and the disc moved around them a second time. He stared at her, still in disbelief. How could she do that so quickly? Even he hadn't managed to pull it off in less than a minute, and he was probably the greatest Pokemon Ranger of all time! Of all time!

It looped around a third time. She sure looked like she knew what she was doing, he thought, watching her eyes narrow in concentration. It was pretty sweet, even if it meant she were better than him, as weird as that thought might be.

Fourth loop. He wondered how she might do in the Ranger School. Maybe if he brought it up, she'd tag along. That might be cool.

Fifth loop. She reminded him of Solana, he thought. Kind of snarky, kind of silly, very talented, and not that bad-looking either …

Sixth loop. Yeah, he agreed with himself, looking back at those big blue eyes. She was pretty cute.

Seventh loop. That jacket looked kind of like Solana's, too.

Eighth loop. And … WOW, that was a short skirt. How come he hadn't noticed it before? Were skirts that short even legal?

Ninth loop. Eh, who cared? He thought it looked just fine. It's not like her legs made it look tacky or anything.

Tenth loop. It couldn't be more than four inches long. Which made it very difficult not to automatically fill in the blanks with what was under it.

Eleventh loop. It was so neat how she had all those curves on such a skinny body. They had to be some kind of place that was just made to be stroked, right?

Twelfth loop. Okay, he decided, she was hot.

Thirteenth loop. Really hot, that is.

Fourteenth loop. Really, really hot.

Fifteenth loop. Really, really, really hot.

Sixteenth loop. Oh Arceus, he had to have her.

Seventeenth loop. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh …

"Wait, wait, wait," Rui muttered to herself, the beam from the Capture Styler fading away as her concentration waned; the disc quickly fell to the sand with a soft thump. "How the heck is a friendliness beam designed for Pokemon going to affect a human?"

She didn't notice Jackie staring at her longingly. Neither of them noticed that the Swellow had fallen asleep, being unused to any level of calm below its usual "kill 'em all" mindset.

After an agonizingly long five seconds, he realized he couldn't take holding it back anymore.

"SCREW ME!" he screamed, drool pouring out of his mouth. He tried to crawl off the bird and towards her, but his limbs refused to move for unknown reasons. "SCREW ME! OH ARCEUS SCREW ME!"

Rui jumped back, staring at him in complete shock. "I'm sorry, what?"

"PLEASE GIVE ME YOUR BODY!" he begged, attracting attention from nervous passersby who really wished they never saw any of this at all. "I'LL TREAT IT RIGHT! DUUUUUDE YOU'RE SO HOOOOOOT …"

She looked from him, down to the Capture Styler, than back up at him. "I should've known this was a bad idea," she muttered, trying to think of what she was supposed to do about all this.

*

Wes smirked as the opponent's fallen Mankey, reaching out to pat his furry black Pokemon on the head as she returned to his side. "Good work, Umbreon. That'll teach that mugger something."

Umbreon's tail wagged happily for a moment, before freezing in midair in surprise; her ears twitched as she stared at something behind him. Frowning slightly, Wes turned around to see what was up.

Rui was walking towards him, carrying an unfamiliar young man in her arms, bridal style. Not only was this a highly odd arrangement to begin with, but the young man had to be at least half again as big as her. The fact that he was gazing openmouthed at her face in adoration, with his entire shirt soaked in sticky drool, only made Wes's eyebrow rise higher.

When she at last stopped a few paces in front of her friend, the strange young man mumbled something about if they "could do it yet". She made a face at this.

"… Do I want to know?" Wes asked finally, unsure of whether he should be angry or amused.

Well that was something. I never thought that a capture style could make a person more... perverted. That was pretty funny in the end, when he yelled "SCREEEW MEEEE!" Yep, definitely funny. Seriously, this one was good... and different. In a good way.

XD Thanks. Considering the horrors people at FanFiction.Net come up with, I was pretty surprised no one had considered it yet ... But now they probably are. Crap.

But anyway. Yes, this is another one about Emok. I think a reviewer on FF.Net might have had a fetish o_0

*

Jackie Walker & Chaser Emok // PG-13

The last traces of day sprinkled the twilight sky with deep red-orange, surrounded by the broader patches of hazy black. Glaring city lights drowned out the stars, giving the sky a strange muddled look. Angry shouts and harsh laughter echoed off of dirtied buildings, forming the beginning of Pyrite City's usual night music.

Sitting in an alley with her back against the wall, Emok had just taken a long drag from her third cigarette when the sound of nearing voices reached her ears.

"… and in any case, we can't afford to feed him. He's too fat to last on our rations. Yeah, I know, I know the whole awkward thing is part of it too, but it's not because I'm embarrassed or anything … well, I am, you know that, but it's more practical reasons I'm talking about. You'd probably find this overly hilarious otherwise … c'mon, can't we dump him somewhere? Everyone's in the bars or whatever, he should be fine if we stick him in a dumpster or wherever. As long as there aren't hobos living in it. Please, can't we get rid of him?"

The voice stopped, leaving the sounds of the city night alone in the rapidly cooling desert air. Emok let the last wisps of smoke escape her mouth, eyes narrowing slightly. That voice was familiar …

"Yes! Good, I knew you'd see it my way. One minute, I'll have to put him somewhere … ugh …"

An unpleasant scraping sound grated at her ears for several long seconds. Soon a figure came into view on the broken sidewalk outside the alley, dragging another shape behind her. Neither was particularly visible in the dim light.

"Man," Rui grunted, pulling her load into the alley, "why do you have to be so fat? Your heaviness makes my muscles cry …"

"Good," Emok grunted.

Rui's reaction was immediate: dropping the load completely unceremoniously, she spun around towards Emok and smashed a boot-clad foot in her face, all in a single motion.

Emok, of course, took this less than well. "Pffffff …" she hissed, blood spurting out from between her teeth. Strangely, nothing about her face, not even her teeth, appeared to be damaged in the slightest, a fact which she might have gloated about had she not been in so much pain. "What …?" she gasped, as soon as she'd managed to take an even breath. "What the mother-loving hell?"

Rui watched her for a moment before lowering her foot again. "Oh," she muttered, "it's you. Great."

"Screw you," Emok snapped. "What was that for?"

Rui rolled her eyes. "What do you mean, what was that for? Pyrite City, at night … you could've been the Joker, for all I knew. Look, if it makes you feel better, I'm sorry, okay?"

"It doesn't," Emok hissed. She crushed her cigarette against the ground, an action that probably would have looked more glamorous were it not for all the blood on her face. "Wes with you?" she asked.

"No," Rui lied smoothly, grateful that the partial darkness hid the intensity of her glare. "I was just, um, asked to take this guy away from the people he was bothering, that's all." She glanced at the feebly stirring figure on the ground. "Not that some people weren't entertained by him. But who knows." She looked back at the older teen, who was staring down at her bloodstained shirt with more than a little dejection. "Say … can I leave him here with you, while he recovers? You don't have to hover over him or anything, just make sure he doesn't get mugged. That'd probably make me feel guilty."

Mopping a little blood off her face, Emok felt tempted for a moment to say no, just for the look on Rui's face. Then she checked herself: it wouldn't be fair letting the guy sink even lower, revenge or no. "Whatever," she mumbled, glancing off to the side.

"Thanks." Rui nodded at her, looked down at the person at her feet one more time, and scampered back out of the alley, quickly vanishing from view.

Sighing deeply, the teen returned her attention to her shirt, decided it was beyond saving at this point, and lowered her head a ways to more easily wipe her face clean with whatever unstained areas remained. This wasn't worth not paying room and board, she decided, thinking back to her old apartment on the other side of town. At least the landlord hadn't actually tried to draw blood.

"Mmmmm …"

She froze, suddenly realizing that the young man could probably see up her shirt. "Perv," she growled, pulling it back down again as she prepared to glare at him.

But he didn't seem to have noticed her. Spread-eagled on his back, he stared up unseeingly at the muggy sky, eyes barely open, pale blond hair surrounding his head, shivering in that short-sleeved shirt of his, looking half-conscious and alone.

Still, he was probably a hero. He had been with that Rui girl, after all; and he certainly looked the part, which probably explained her random "fallen angel" comment. He was slender yet deceptively muscular, typical hero build – nothing to provoke Rui's earlier comment regarding his fatness. Rather attractive too, that was a factor for sure.

His teeth began to chatter, and the thought occurred to her that he probably wasn't used to the desert cold at all.

"C'mere," she grunted, leaning far forward, seizing hold of him, and dragging him over to her.

His muscles made him quite heavy, however, for she soon dropped him involuntarily. As luck would have it, he ended up falling right on top of her. She winced at his weight pushing down on her, though that soon turned into a blush as she realized that his body actually felt quite nice. Looping her arms around him, she managed to pull him to the side, accidentally getting pulled along as he fell to the hard ground.

She spent several seconds trying to pull one arm free, pinned as it was underneath his side, but she soon stopped those efforts once she realized this position was otherwise very comfortable. Already she could feel his body warmth soaking into her, and her heart fluttered just a little.

"Ah … I'm probably going to regret this," she remarked to nobody in particular, before snuggling closer to him and letting herself begin drifting off to sleep.

*

When she woke up that morning, the sun had only just begun to actually warm Pyrite City. The air was turning the sort of temperature people tended to prefer in Orre: cool but not too cold, with rays of sun gently warming one's face. Children laughed a few streets away, amid the sound of a barking dog.

The first thing she noticed was that he was also starting to wake up, albeit more slowly. She watched as his eyes fluttered open, inhaling deeply as he slowly pulled himself from sleep. He really was a hero, she thought dreamily, as they stared at each other, lying there in the otherwise empty alleyway. No other kind of person could look so … angelic.

What she didn't take into account was the fact that dried blood had caked all over her face and shirt, and he was merely trying to wrap his gradually clearing mind around all this.

"Good—" she began.

"Murderer!" he suddenly shouted, breaking from her arms as he rolled away in panic.

She stared up at him as he leapt to his feet, confused at his behavior. Why would he be so upset? It wasn't as if they'd actually—

"Rui," he muttered to himself, thoughtfulness slowly replacing his horror. "The lady of ultimate sexiness! Save me from this monster, Rui!" he screamed, dashing out of the alley. The sounds of him tripping were easily audible. "Save me! I must have yoooooouuuuuu!"

"… I'm never going to live this down, am I," Emok said to herself, depression beginning to poisonously sink in.

"No," replied one of many of the bemused people looking down on the scene from above, his head sticking out a window of one of the buildings that formed the alley walls. "No, you're not."